Twisted Lines and Straight Curves
by Queenhaq
Summary: AU.  Ariadne's relationship with her father, Dom Cobb, has been strained for years but she's determined to change that.  Except things never go as planned especially when she crosses path with her dad's business partner, Arthur.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an _Inception _AU fic.**

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Ariadne shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Dom wouldn't have shown up at the airport to pick her up, that she even expected him was a ridiculous idea to begin with. After all, he had always made it clear he didn't want to have anything to do with her, even if she was his daughter.

She stood in the middle of the airport, surveying her surroundings. All around her people were hugging their loved ones, ecstasy and joy evident in their faces, and here she was unsure her father would even bother to turn up. The lump in her throat was threatening to overtake her but she refused to give in. No, no, no. She would _not_ cry. Not for Dom. He wasn't worth it.

"Ariadne?"

Her heart leapt up in her chest when she heard the unfamiliar voice speak her name from behind. Maybe she'd been wrong about him, maybe he had come for her. Excited, she whirled around.

And found herself face to face with a stranger.

He was older, probably in his early thirty's, hair slicked back and dressed casually in jeans, plaid shirt, and what looked to be an expensive brown leather jacket. And from the impatient expression on his face, it was obvious this was the last place he wanted to be.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked.

"Your ride," he replied in a no-nonsense tone of voice. He bent forward to pick up her luggage but she slapped his hand away.

"I don't know you," she said, and took a step closer which clearly made him uncomfortable. "And I'm not going anywhere with someone I don't know."

"Really? From everything I've heard, you seem especially fond of bringing strangers home."

"Ah, I see daddy dearest has been sharing news about my exploits. I hope I've made him proud."

"Immensely so," he muttered sarcastically. "Listen, I have things I need to do today. You can either come with me or stay here. Your choice."

"Okay, I'll stay. I'm sure someone will help me out. Like you said, I've always depended on the kindness of strangers."

And then he smirked. An actual, genuine smirk that brightened his dark eyes and made him appear ten years younger. "And look how far that got Blanche Dubois."

"You're not too bad looking when you smile."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Guess you're not too used to them. A pity."

"You don't need to worry about me."

"Oh, I'm not." She flashed him her most flirtatious smile. "You're not my usual type, I prefer my men older, but I'll make an exception for you."

"Don't bother."

This time when he bent down to pick up her things, she didn't stop him.

"And you can stop with the flirting," he said. "I have no interest in little girls."

He headed for the door, without giving her so much of a goodbye glance, and she quickly caught up to him. "I still don't know your name."

"Arthur."

"Are you my father's personal assistant? Or something more? Is he playing for the other team now?"

Arthur chuckled, giving her a sideway glance. "We are partners, but not in the way you think. We work together."

"Doing what?"

"That's something you need to talk to Cobb about."

Turning into the parking lot, they headed towards a small convertible. No, not just any convertible. A Porsche Carrera. Arthur threw her suitcase in the back before opening his own door to slip inside.

"You look too young to be going through a mid-life crisis," Ariadne commented as she took the passenger seat.

"I'll take that insult to mean you like the car. Thank you."

She smiled, gripping the door when he expertly and swiftly pulled out of the parking spot and garage. "How long have you been working with Dom?"

"Five years."

"Are you guys close?"

"We don't braid each other's hair at night, but yes, I guess you can say we're close."

_Don't ask him. Don't do it._ But despite knowing better, she couldn't stop herself. "Does he ever talk about me?"

The sun was shining down at them, music blaring loudly from the car beside, and yet it felt like there was a heavy cloud weighing down on her when Arthur finally answered her question. "Not often."

She didn't say anything for the longest time, just stared out the open window.

"I think it's hard for him," Arthur continued.

"Whatever."

"He's not exactly the sharing type."

"Yet you know all about me bringing strangers home."

"To be fair, I heard that from Miles when he called. Your grandfather wasn't exactly pleased about that."

"He caught me fooling around with one of my professors, not a stranger."

"Well then, I stand corrected."

His cheeky grin surprised her. Even though she had just met Arthur he didn't seem to be a light-hearted sort of guy, and here he was teasing her. She took a few seconds to study him, observe him, and he promptly turned his attention back on the red light ahead. Despite his eyes hiding behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, she could still feel the heat smoldering in his gaze when he had looked at her.

In her experience, most men were pathetic and extremely malleable. With a bit of attention and flattery, they were putty in her hands, and all too easy to use and manipulate. The older ones were a bit more challenging because they held out for longer, letting their guilt get in the way of enjoying simple acts of pleasure, but eventually they all broke down. Just like Arthur would. It was only a matter of time.

"I think he's happy you're here for a visit."

"So happy he couldn't wait to show his face at the airport."

"Something came up. Cobb _was_ supposed to be there."

"Yeah, but he sent you instead. Obviously he had other priorities."

"You're really planning to put him through the wringer, aren't you?"

"Don't worry, Arthur," she bit out, angry with her father – and herself – all over again. "I'll be gentle with your boyfriend."

Arthur said something in response, but she blocked it out – a technique she learned and had perfected over the years of being lectured to by her grandparents. As much as she disliked them at times, at least they never gave up on her, never left her behind, never forgot about her – unlike Dom. He completely erased her out of his life after handing her over to her maternal grandparents following her mother's death. It became very clear to her early on she was a burden – maybe even a mistake – to him. Despite knowing all that, she still flew to LA to see him, hoping against hope that maybe he would be interested in getting to know her. Now that she was an adult, finished with high school and about to enter a new phase in her life, maybe he would finally give her a chance. Obviously she was mistaken.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Cobb asked me to drop you at his place. He'll join you for dinner tonight."

"So nice of him to take time out of his busy schedule to see little old me."

"Make up your mind, Ariadne. Either you're pissed because he's not putting in enough effort or he's trying too hard. You can't have it both ways."

"Shut up."

The rest of the ride was silent, and she was grateful Arthur didn't try to force the conversation. She wasn't in the mood to play nice with him. Shortly after, he parked along the curb next to a grimy warehouse. "This is where he lives?" she asked, crinkling her nose as she inspected the exterior of the building.

"No, this is where he works."

"I thought you were dropping me off at his home?"

"I changed my mind." He got out of the car and shut the door. "Coming?"

Her heart started pounding in her chest, and her palms were suddenly slick with sweat. She didn't know what she felt more: nervousness or excitement. The last time she saw her father was seven years ago, when he came to her grandparents house in Paris for her thirteenth birthday. He had brought her a doll, probably not realizing she was too old to play with such things, and they had spent the whole afternoon together. She had told him all about her school, her friends, the boy she had declared her boyfriend and was determined to marry as soon as she grew old enough, and Dom had smiled throughout it all, occasionally laughing but mostly silent, watching her with the fatherly affection she had always craved. After that there had been occasional phone calls which grew more and more infrequent... and then it was just birthday and Christmas cards with cheques attached every year.

"It's okay to be nervous."

Arthur's voice brought her out of her reverie, and she gave him a grateful smile when he held the door open for her. Following behind him, she entered the building and instantly heard her father's voice drifting in from the other side. As she approached the sound, her anxiety increased exponentially.

Dom was standing in the center of the warehouse, his back turned to her, and speaking to a group of guys that were listening to him attentively.

"Cobb," Arthur called out.

Her father turned around and his gaze settled upon her face.

Would he be happy to see her, rush over and hug her? Or would he be angry, annoyed that she'd shown up here instead of waiting at his place? She really had no idea what kind of reaction to expect.

"Ariadne," he said her name.

His voice was exactly the same. Soft yet deep, stern, quietly controlled. He was dressed in a casual suit, his hands tucked into his pockets. Her grandparents had always told her she resembled her mother and although she assumed it was wishful thinking on their part, she could see they were right. She didn't really look anything like her father with the exception of two features: her hair was the same rich shade of brown as his, and their noses were shaped similarly.

He looked so much older and weathered than she remembered, not at all like the man from her memories who, although quiet, was always free with his smiles. She didn't think this man standing in front of her was capable of breaking into a smile, and definitely not laughter. She contemplated how to address him. 'Dad' sounded strange to her, entirely too intimate, so she stuck with the familiar. "Dom," she finally answered.

He walked towards her with slow, hesitant steps, and even though his expression remained stoic she could sense the tension in him. Especially when he darted a questioning glance over at Arthur.

"I asked him to bring me here first," Ariadne lied. "I wanted to see you."

That seemed to placate him and he granted her a polite smile. "How was your flight?"

"Okay."

"Are you hungry? Do you need anything?"

"No."

Awkward silence crept in, thick and palpable, hanging in the air between them. Strangers. That's how they were behaving with each other... because that's essentially what they were. She wanted to dissolve into tears right then and there but she didn't let herself. So what if he seemed less than enthused to see her? She shouldn't have been surprised, not really. In all honestly if she hadn't pushed her grandparents to send her here, she would probably never have laid eyes on Dom again.

"I'm in the middle of something right now. Maybe we can catch up later?"

"Sure," she said coldly. "Whatever."

"Arthur, why don't you drive her back to my place?"

"Why don't you? I can take over here."

Great. Now there were two men fighting to get the hell away from her. "You know what, I saw a bar not too far from here. Why don't I go over there and have a few drinks? I can hitch a ride back to your place tomorrow morning."

Dom stared at her, dumbfounded by her words, but Arthur didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"First of all, you're under 21," Arthur reminded her.

"I'll get my hands on a fake ID soon. Until then, I'll charm my way in."

"And secondly, no," Arthur continued, ignoring her.

"Last time I checked, _you're_ not my father."

"That may be but he _is_ and I'm sure he agrees with me." Arthur looked to Dom for support. "Cobb?"

"I think you should take Ariadne home," was Dom's only response.

Maybe it was the fact he actually sounded like he cared, but Ariadne chose to shut up and not push his limits further. The last thing she wanted was for her father to tire of her and send her back to Paris already. "See you later, Dom," she said with a fake, cheerful smile, turned around, and walked out.

She was waiting by the car a few seconds before Arthur turned up.

"That didn't go as expected," he muttered, unlocking her door before striding over to the driver's side. She reluctantly slid into the passenger seat.

"Which was what? Tears and emotions?" As hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the edge out of her voice.

"It can't be easy to suddenly reconnect with a teenage daughter."

"I'm twenty, not a fucking teenager."

He smiled. "Give him some time. Be patient with him. I'm sure things will work out."

She mulled over Arthur's words, and even though she desperately wanted to believe him, she didn't.

"I know something you guys have in common already."

"What?"

"You both have a temper problem."

She rolled her eyes. "You haven't seen the worst of my anger yet."

"I've seen Cobb's and it's not pleasant."

"Does he actually show any emotion?" she muttered.

"Wait till you get to know him. You'll see exactly how volatile he can be."

"Do you think it'll really happen?"

Arthur gave her a soft smile. "Yes, as long as you don't give up on Cobb."

Maybe she was being delusional, but a part of her actually believed him. Her grandparents, although careful not to speak ill of her father in front of her, firmly believed it was impossible to have the kind of relationship with her father she craved. But here was Arthur, someone who actually thought it was possible. She just had to work hard at it and not give up.

Right then and there, Ariadne decided she was going to be the perfect daughter and not give her father any reason to turn away from her.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

Ariadne was sitting across from Dom who seemed more engrossed in playing with his food than having a conversation with her. He had come home about an hour ago with takeout, set the table, and now they were in the middle of the most awkward dinner experience of her life. He wasn't entirely silent, he did make the effort to ask her questions, but it felt more like an attempt at small talk rather than genuine concern on his part.

"How are classes going?" Dom asked, glancing up at her.

She shrugged her shoulders. "They're not. I'm taking a year off."

"Any particular reason?"

_Yes. You._ She shook her head 'no'. "Let's just say it wasn't entirely my choice."

"Meaning?"

She was surprised by his curiosity; it was the first time he actually expressed any interest in her. "The University suggested I take a year off."

"And why would they do that?"

"Because the committee found out I was dating my Algebra professor."

He quirked his eyebrow. "I see."

The heat rose in her cheeks and, for the first time in a long while, she actually felt a seed of regret for her actions – a feat still unaccomplished by her grandparents.

Another bout of awkward pause followed, and Ariadne found herself unable to look at Dom. She really didn't want to be confronted with the disappointment she was sure to find in his eyes - the same look her grandpa always gave her after she was caught pulling one of her stunts. She knew Dom would eventually share the same discontented attitude as her grandparents had, but for the time being she still wanted him to hold her in high regard.

"We weren't really dating," she lied. "He was helping me after hours because I was having trouble with the material. One thing led to another and some of the other students found out, they weren't too happy about it... and it all sort of spiralled out of control."

If the expression of relief on his face was any indication, he actually believed her. iFuck/i. Now she had to make sure her grandpa wouldn't reveal the truth.

"I'm surprised you didn't fight the suspension."

"Honestly, I needed a break."

Thankfully, he seemed satisfied with her flimsy response and didn't broach the topic any further.

"I'm a little busy this week," Dom said a short while later, guilt laced in his voice.

"It's okay. I can keep myself busy."

"I hope you don't mind I asked Arthur to show you around L.A."

_Oh_. That she definitely didn't mind – even though she had a sneaking suspicion Arthur wasn't too happy about it. "Are you sure he doesn't?"

"He hasn't said anything."

And even if he had, Dom was probably oblivious to it. Oh well, not her problem.

"He gave you a tour of the house when he dropped you off?"

"Yes."

She'd invited Arthur to test out her bed with her but he'd simply ignored her suggestion and dropped her suitcase on the ground. He seemed really irritated with her flirting which only made her want to do it more.

Dom stood up, and picked her empty plate up along with his.

"I can do the dishes," she offered.

"It's alright. I'm just going to use the dishwasher."

She contemplated following him into the kitchen and helping him anyway but she worried about crowding him. The last thing she wanted was for him to get sick of her and send her back.

"I know you've had a long day," Dom continued. "Don't let me keep you up. I have to finish some work anyway."

Although disappointed, she was also relieved. As much as she wanted to spend more time with her father, it was exhausting to keep up the front of a good girl.

"See you tomorrow. If you need anything, just knock on my door."

She helped clean the table, and before heading off to her room, she stopped by the kitchen. "Thanks for letting me stay with you, Dom."

And then he offered her his first genuine smile, his eyes shining with affection without any hint of doubt or uncertainty in them. "I'm glad you're here."

She practically skipped to her room, her heart filled with joy and hope for the future.

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Ariadne was sitting on the front steps leading up to Dom's house when Arthur pulled up in his Carrera. A flirtatious smile spread across her face at the sight of him. He simply ignored it, crooked his index finger and gestured her to get in.

"I've been looking forward to our date," Ariadne said suggestively, sliding in next to him.

"This isn't a date."

"You should know, I only put out if you splurge on very expensive wine."

"Well, at least you have high standards," he deadpanned. "Where do you want to go?"

"To my bedroom. We can take advantage of my very comfortable bed."

He levelled her with an irritated look. "Stop. You're embarrassing yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "What do you have against harmless fun?"

"You're not my type."

"And what _is_ your type?"

"Women. Not girls."

"That's very insulting," she huffed. "I can't help the way I look."

"I was referring to your attitude, not appearance." Then he grinned, beaming with pride at the insult he just delivered.

Ariadne sat transfixed at his sudden transformation from somber to joyous, almost childish glee, and the unexpected change set her heart racing. At first she didn't find him all that attractive but that had definitely changed after spending those first few hours with him. He intrigued her yet she wasn't entirely sure why – and that in itself was a refreshing change from the usual.

"Things are going to go a lot more smoothly today if you stop throwing yourself at me."

"What if I made you a deal?" she asked.

"What kind of a deal?"

"I'll stop the flirting if _you_ stop treating me like a child."

He cocked his eyebrow. "How do I know you'll stick to it?"

"Guess you'll just have to trust me."

Arthur sat back and studied her for a few seconds; she looked away and focused her attention straight ahead. The intensity of his gaze was disconcerting to her.

"Okay," he said finally. "So, where do you want to go?"

"To the Mall."

"Seriously? There are all these beautiful places here and you want to go shopping."

"I need a change in wardrobe. Most of my clothes aren't exactly appropriate for the good girl image I need."

"I'm assuming this is for Cobb?"

"Yes."

"He doesn't care how you dress."

"Yeah well, it'll be much easier for him to accept a perfect, well-behaved daughter than a troublemaker."

"You can't possibly believe that."

"Will you just drive?" she snapped.

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh, and started his car.

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Much later that afternoon, Ariadne sat across from him and observed him silently as he finished off his steak. She couldn't remember the last time she had enjoyed herself this much without being hammered out of her mind. Not that she would admit that to him.

Taking advantage of his occupied state, she picked up his glass of wine.

"That's _my_ drink."

She took a sip, closed her eyes, not swallowing the liquid right away and instead letting it roll in her mouth, allowing her senses and taste buds to absorb it all. He wasn't kidding. This stuff really was amazing.

Licking her lips, she opened her eyes. And found his gaze fixated on her mouth.

Her throat suddenly felt dry, and her chest tightened.

"Would you like to see the dessert menu?"

Startled, she stared up at the waitress blankly for a few seconds; Ariadne hadn't even noticed her. "Uh, no, I'm fine. Thank you."

When she glanced at Arthur next, he was leaning back in his chair. His attention shifted from his plate to the waitress to the glass of wine she was holding – everywhere except her.

"You do realize dressing like a sister-wife isn't automatically going to result in the perfect relationship with your father," he remarked shortly after.

"Yeah well, it can't hurt."

"Instead of doing all this, how about just being honest with him? Try having an actual conversation with the man."

"I've been here for four days and I've barely even seen him."

"I think he's afraid of you."

She snickered. "Yeah, because I'm so terrifying."

"More than you realize."

There it was again. That hint of something _dark_ in his tone, hidden in the depth of his eyes that made her feel exposed, naked, like he could see right through to her very core. She didn't like being in a position where the other person held more insight into her; it made her feel vulnerable, out of control.

The men she was used to dealing with were significantly uncomplicated compared to Arthur; their motivations, desires, weaknesses were easy to understand and use against them. With Arthur, however, her usual bag of tricks was proving to be useless. She had yet to determine why he was helping her with Dom in the first place. What did he have to gain from it? There must be something. In her experience, people didn't go out of their way to be kind to her without reason. Initially she assumed she could use sex to manipulate him, but he wasn't interested in her – he made that very clear. Her second thought was that Arthur was trying to get into Dom's good side, but after witnessing their interactions it was evident Arthur didn't care about pleasing Dom.

Their waitress returned to the table with the bill and flashed a sultry smile at Arthur. Ariadne smirked, shaking her head. Apparently she wasn't the only one charmed by him.

As she started pulling out her wallet, Arthur snatched the bill from her.

"I got this," he said firmly.

"Now I feel like I _have_ to put out."

She regretted her words instantly – especially when he refused to look at her and simply paid the bill.

"Let's go," he ordered a minute later.

Ariadne followed silently behind him.

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They were sitting in his parked car, staring blankly out the window, listening to the sound of heavy rain drops hitting the roof of his convertible.

"I thought it didn't rain here!" Ariadne exclaimed.

"Doesn't usually. But when it rains, it pours."

He wasn't wrong.

Even though they were only a few feet away from the door, she was sure she'd be soaked in the downfall. Plus, from the grumpy expression on Arthur's face, she doubted he would help her with her bags which meant another trip back to his car.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'll make a run for it. Thanks for putting up with me today."

She didn't wait for his response and jumped out of the car. By the time she had retrieved her bags and reached the front door, she was already wet. As was Arthur when he joined her with the remainder of her bags.

"Fuck!" he vented.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to help me."

"Shut up and open the door."

Grinning, she stepped inside. He followed her in.

"Ugh, I hate rain," he complained, dropping her bags on the floor.

"Get over it. It's just a little water." His childish glare only made her laugh more. "Go change your shirt. I'm sure Dom won't mind if you borrow something from him."

"I wouldn't be caught dead in his wardrobe."

"Are you kidding me? You'll catch a cold if you don't take that off."

Grumbling, he sauntered off to Dom's room.

It occurred to her he would need a towel but she wasn't sure if there were any clean ones in Dom's room. Grabbing a fresh one from the linen closet, she headed to the bedroom and found the door wide open with Arthur standing in the middle of the room.

He was removing his shirt, his back turned to her, and she found herself frozen in place. There were scars all over his skin, as if wounds branded on to his body. From where she was standing they didn't appear to be fresh marks but deep and dark enough that they were etched on to his back permanently.

There were so many questions running through her mind but she remained silent as he dropped the wet piece of clothing to the floor. She felt numb and confused one minute, absolutely terrified and angry the next. Someone hurt him. Badly. But who? Why? How could someone do that to another human being let alone Arthur? Her heart was pounding in her chest, so loudly she felt it would jump out of her body.

All of a sudden he whirled around to face her.

And her gaze dropped down to his chest. There were scars there as well.

Her heart ached at the devastation he must have suffered. She wanted to say something, do anything, to make it better but she realized how ridiculous that sounded. There was nothing she could do for him.

"I thought you could use a towel," she said, locking eyes with him.

He stared at her with a blank expression.

Realising she would have to go to him, she approached Arthur hesitantly.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

It occurred to Ariadne Arthur would need a towel but she wasn't sure if there were any clean ones in Dom's room. Grabbing a fresh one from the linen closet, she headed to the bedroom and found the door wide open with Arthur standing in the middle of the room.

He was removing his shirt, his back turned to her, and she stood transfixed at the sight of him. There were scars all over his skin, as if wounds branded on to his body. They didn't appear to be fresh marks but deep and dark enough that they were etched on to his back permanently.

There were so many questions running through her mind but she remained silent as he dropped the wet piece of clothing to the floor. She felt numb and confused one minute, absolutely terrified and angry the next. Someone hurt him. Badly. But who? Why? How could someone do that to another human being let alone Arthur? Her heart was pounding in her chest, so loudly she felt it would jump out of her body.

All of a sudden he whirled around to face her.

And her gaze dropped down to his chest. There were scars there as well.

Her heart ached at the devastation he must have suffered. She wanted to say something, ido/i anything, to make it better but she realized how ridiculous that sounded. There was nothing she could do for him.

"I thought you could use a towel," she said, locking eyes with him.

He stared at her with a blank expression.

Realising she would have to go to him, she approached Arthur hesitantly. His piercing gaze bore into her, and it felt as if her knees were ready to give way. His intensity was nerve-wracking, doubly more when she was standing directly in front of him. She handed him the towel.

Their eyes locked, they stood there. Silent and still. Time stopped, they were frozen in place.

"You're still drenched," he finally spoke.

She hadn't even noticed.

"I didn't think you could ever be speechless."

That made her smile. "I'm glad I can surprise you."

"Yeah, looks like I'm not the only one surprised."

Her focus fell to his chest again. She almost reached out to feel his scars with her fingers but stopped herself; just the ithought/i of touching him left her trembling – she didn't know what would happen if she actually did. But more than the fear of how much he affected her, she was worried about causing him pain. The wounds appeared to be old, but she didn't know if they still troubled him. "Do they hurt?"

"Not physically."

A sharp chill entered her bones; she wasn't sure if it was from the wet clothes or the subtle bitterness laced in his voice. The moment her eyes wavered up to meet his heated gaze, however, she felt comforted. "Who did this to you?"

A self-deprecating smile formed across his face. "Let's just say you're not the only one who had a difficult childhood."

His forced, light-headed tone of voice broke her heart, especially when she realized he was doing it for her benefit. Here she was, bitching and whining to him about her problems, when he had experienced something that was exponentially more horrible. She felt ashamed, embarrassed. No wonder he thought she was a childish brat - that's exactly how she had been behaving around him. "I'll give you some privacy," she expelled in a hurried tone of voice and rushed out of the room.

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By the time Ariadne had changed out of her wet clothes, Arthur was already waiting for her in the kitchen. He was dressed in one of Dom's shirts, and as he had predicted earlier, he really did look ridiculous in it. She almost broke into a smile at the sight of him but stopped herself in time; truth was, she could barely even look at him considering her immature behaviour.

"There you are. I was wondering where you ran off to."

She offered him a tense smile. "Thanks again for today."

"Want me to stick around until Cobb comes home?"

"No, that's fine. You've done enough already."

After a brief bout of awkward silence, he strolled out of the kitchen and to the front door. She followed behind him.

"It stopped raining," he said, opening the door.

"Yeah, looks like it."

He turned to her again. "Bye, Ariadne."

"See you."

She wondered how he could even stand to be around her for as long as he had.

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This was the fourth time she had made dinner for Dom in two weeks. The first night was a complete disaster: parts of the chicken were still raw, the vegetables were overdone, and she didn't even want to think about how badly she had burnt the dessert. Her second attempt was slightly better even though they still had to order in dinner. The food was actually edible the third time around but not very good. Tonight, however, things were finally perfect.

Ariadne set the table, musing about her current situation. Even though they hadn't discussed it at all, she knew Dom was really making an effort to change things for the better. He was actually coming home early every day, and during dinner he didn't avoid her or look as nervous and terrified as he had those first few days. Their daily dinner had settled into a comfortable routine, albeit a quiet one. They didn't say much, but she still enjoyed their time together.

A car pulled up; he was home.

Short while later, she heard Dom call her name.

"Ariadne?"

She headed to the family room, and stiffened as soon as she realized her father wasn't alone. Arthur was with him. Although she hadn't seen him since the last time they had spent the day together, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about him.

"Hey," Arthur greeted.

"I hope you don't mind I invited him for dinner," Dom said, oblivious to the sudden tension that had crept into the room.

"No, of course not." Ariadne returned Arthur's small smile. "As long as you behave."

"I can't make any promises," Arthur sneered.

At least they could always snipe at each other; that was a relief.

"Do you feel like Italian? Or maybe Thai?" Dom asked. "We can order in-"

"No," she interjected. "I made dinner."

Her father's forehead furrowed with concern, which any other day would have made her laugh, but considering she'd spent half the day preparing and ensuring everything would be perfect, his response only irritated her. And with Arthur here, she was already on edge. "Don't worry. It's not raw, or burnt," she huffed.

"Well, I certainly feel reassured after that," Arthur deadpanned.

"I'm sure it'll be delicious," Dom said encouragingly, and headed to the dining room.

"Wow. He's willing to risk food poisoning for you," Arthur snarked, quirking his eyebrow. "Not sure I can do the same."

She glared at him. "Feel free to leave then."

"Ah, such wonderful hospitality."

"Shut up."

His impish grin threatened to break through her wall and make her smile but she fought the urge and hurried out of the room.

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They were seated around the table, with Ariadne sitting across from Dom and Arthur. Much to her relief, they seemed to be really enjoying her food – and not just pretending for her benefit. Dom had actually helped himself to a second serving which pleased her a lot.

Spotting the half-empty jug of water, she remembered the bottle of wine she had managed to get her hands on earlier today. She excused herself and went to the kitchen. Considering the heavy flirting she had to do to get the Pinot Noir, she couldn't believe it had escaped her mind.

The only good thing about being left alone for majority of the day was that it gave her plenty of time to go out and mingle with new people at the nearby college campus. Dom was under the impression she was there to audit classes, but instead she'd been hanging out with some frat boys the whole week, using them as a distraction to keep her mind off things she didn't want to dwell on. And thanks to one of them, she'd procured a bottle of Pinot Noir which she was eager to share with her father.

Unfortunately there were no wine glasses in Dom's kitchen. Oh well. She returned to the table with the wine and uncorked the bottle.

"Dom, I want you to try this. It's absolutely amazing," she grinned and started pouring the liquid in her father's glass. "And it goes really well with the chicken."

"Ariadne," Arthur said.

"Wait your turn, Arthur. You'll get some too."

"Ariadne, Cobb doesn't drink. He can't. He's in AA."

She glanced at her father who was suddenly tense, embarrassed, his face flushed red. "I'm so sorry... I... I didn't know," she stammered nervously. In a hurry to remove his glass, she knocked it aside and the liquid spilled on the table. "Fuck!"

Arthur and Dom both jumped up but Arthur was quicker, using napkins to dab the liquid.

"I'm so sorry," she repeated again.

"It's okay," Dom urged.

"I'm going to get rid of this," she said, and practically ran out of the room and into the kitchen bringing with her the bottle.

Alone, she took a swig to calm her nerves before dumping the rest of the liquid in the sink. Although she'd noticed the lack of alcohol in Dom's home, she'd just assumed it was because her father was hardly home. It never even occurred to her he was a recovering addict.

No wonder he always seemed nervous and on edge around her. Her antics were probably a big threat in his quest to maintain sobriety.

Why the hell did she always have to fuck things up?

"Are you okay?" Arthur asked from behind.

"I'm fine," she snapped without turning around to face him.

"Liar."

"Just leave me alone."

Ariadne waited for him to leave, but he didn't.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know," he said after a while.

"But I should have."

"I thought Dom would have told you."

She turned halfway and found him leaning against the kitchen island, a few feet away from her. "I guess he didn't feel comfortable sharing that with me."

"I think you intimidate him."

She snickered. "I doubt that."

"You're not the only one trying to make a good impression around here." Arthur smiled softly. "He's not easily flustered but you make him nervous."

"Let's hope I don't drive him to drink."

Arthur crept closer. "Is that what you're worried about?"

"I poured him a fucking drink!"

"Trust me, you're not the first. You certainly won't be the last. He knows how to deal when something like this happens."

She wanted to believe him, and looking into his eyes as he stared at her with the same hypnotic gaze she'd been trying to forget these past few days, she almost could. Once again she was struck with the haunting image of him, his every scar and wound visible and exposed to her, and even though he was fully clothed in front of her now, she could still see them on his skin as clear as day.

"Am I making you nervous?"

His words brought her out of her reverie and she locked eyes with him. "No."

He smirked. "Are you sure?"

"I'm embarrassed, not nervous."

"About what?"

"You know what."

"I really don't."

She chose her next words carefully. "I'm sorry I dumped all my problems on you. I'll try not to do it again."

His right eyebrow lifted up in surprise. "You needed someone to talk to. I don't mind."

"After what you've gone through... you shouldn't have to worry about me."

"And if I want to?"

She stayed silent, staring at him.

"You're allowed to feel the way you do, Ariadne. There's nothing wrong with that."

His gaze was compelling, his eyes piercing right through her. Her stomach quivered, and her heart threatened to explode out of her chest.

"And besides, the martyr act doesn't suit you."

"You prefer it when I'm annoying and selfish?"

"You're more interesting when you're being yourself."

"Even when I'm throwing myself at you?"

His eyes darkened, the tension between them now palpable.

"I didn't think I'd have to worry about that again."

"Why not?"

"I assumed the scars were a turn-off for you."

"You assumed wrong. I think you're beautiful."

When his gaze lowered to her lips next, her breath hitched in her throat, every nerve in her body acutely aware of him. She wanted to run from him, to hide, because the depth of these emotions terrified her, but she couldn't pull away. She couldn't fight it anymore. The force between them was stronger, pushing them towards each other.

He was standing close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face; she could reach out and very easily touch every mark on his skin, something she'd been aching to do since he revealed them to her.

"Ariadne?"

Arthur jumped back instantly upon hearing Dom's voice. His instincts were a lot quicker than Ariadne's who took a bit longer to recover.

"Is everything okay?" Dom asked, standing at the door.

"It's fine," Arthur replied for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sorry about the wine," Ariadne said, feigning a bright smile for her father.

"I should have told you sooner," Dom said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. Go back and take a seat. I still haven't served dessert."

"Actually, I have to go," Arthur said. "I need to be somewhere." He refused to look at her even as he turned in her direction. "Thanks for dinner, Ariadne. It was really great. I'll see you tomorrow, Cobb."

Dom and Ariadne stared after him as Arthur exited the room in a mad rush.

"That was strange," Dom commented when the front door shut shortly after.

"Guess he had to be somewhere."

"He told me he didn't have any plans tonight."

"Maybe he forgot."

"Arthur doesn't forget things."

Ariadne didn't respond, and she could only hope the suspicious glint in her father's eyes was just a figment of her imagination.


	4. Chapter 4

Ariadne knew it was just a matter of time before things blew up between her and her father. It was bound to happen, she'd been dreading it since the day she reached Los Angeles, but even she hadn't expected it to happen on the anniversary of her mother's death.

She had woken up today, hoping that she and Dom could spend the day together and visit her mother's grave. As she'd spent most of her life in Paris with her grandparents following Sabine's death, she'd never had the opportunity to visit the site as an adult. She wanted to share that experience with her father, and maybe learn a little more about who her mother really was. Although her grandparents had always shared their memories of her, Ariadne was curious to learn about Sabine from Dom's perspective.

Unfortunately, all of her plans went to hell at breakfast.

_Ariadne set a plate of pancakes in front of Dom and watched him hesitantly._

_"Aren't you having any?" he asked._

_"I'm not hungry."_

_"Are you feeling well?"_

_"I'm fine." She tapped her fingers on the table nervously. "Do you think we can go to the cemetery today?"_

_He didn't answer her right away, instead focusing all of his attention on the plate in front of him._

_"I'd really like to go," she explained. "I know I've been when I was younger but I don't really remember it. I was hoping we could take some lilies with us, Gram told me they were mom's favourite."_

_"They were," he said softly._

_"I hope you weren't one of those guys that only bought flowers on Valentine's Day," she teased._

_Her father didn't reciprocate her smile. Instead he pushed his plate away and stood up, all the while avoiding her gaze. "I won't be able to take you today. I have an important meeting with a client that I can't miss."_

_Anger surged through her but she forced herself to remain calm. "I can wait until you're done."_

_"Why don't I call Arthur? He doesn't have to be at this meeting-"_

_"Are you fucking kidding me?" she raged._

_Dom finally looked at her, clearly surprised by her outburst. "Ariadne-"_

_"I didn't come here to spend time with your business partner. I came here for you!" she vented, unable to keep her emotions under control. She had tried so hard to connect with Dom, changing the difficult facets of her personality just so he wouldn't have any excuse to abandon her again, playing the part of the perfect daughter for weeks now but it seemed like nothing she did would ever be enough to capture her father's attention. He didn't want anything to do with her, and as much as she didn't want to believe that, it was becoming increasingly clear she couldn't do anything to change it._

_"Please don't speak to me like that," Dom said sternly._

_"Or what? You're going to ship me off again, kick me out of your life? Because that's what you really want, right?"_

_"Of course not," he said calmly which only aggravated her more._

_"You act like you don't want anything to do with me! If that's how you really feel, why did you even agree to have me come here? For that matter, why did you even have a fucking kid when you clearly don't want anything to do with one?"_

_"Watch your tone, Ariadne. I am still your father and you're going to treat me with respect."_

_"No, you don't get to claim the father title when it suits your needs!" She stood in front of him, crying, hating herself for exposing all her fears and insecurities while he remained infuriatingly calm. "You gave up the right to call yourself my father the day you handed me over to someone else."_

_"I did what I thought was best for you."_

_"Best for me would have been a fucking parent in my life but you didn't want to be that, did you? Tell me the truth. Were you happy when mom died and it finally gave you an excuse to get rid of me?"_

_When Dom suddenly slapped her across the face, she was caught completely by surprise. His hand stung her cheek, the pain sharp and quick, but it was almost a relief; at least he finally felt isomething/i - even if it was anger. Apparently that was the only emotion she was capable of bringing out in him._

_"What's the matter, Dom? Did my words hit too close to home?"_

_"Don't you ever say I wanted your mother dead! I loved her; I would have done anything for her."_

_"Except raise her child, right? Or is that the problem, Dom? Am I not your kid? Did she fuck around on you? If she did, I don't blame her for it. She probably got sick of your disappearing act. If Arthur was around back then, you'd probably dump your wife on his shoulder too!"_

_"Get out!"_

She'd stormed out of the house but not before telling Dom to go fuck himself. And now here she was at the frat house hours later, sitting next to a guy who wouldn't shut up, with her buzz wearing off and her irritation rising.

"Let's go upstairs."

Ariadne turned to look at the loser next to her. He wasn't her type - too pretty, too young, too boring - and she probably wasn't his either but he probably figured she'd be an easy lay. Too bad all she wanted was to be left alone.

"We can have a lot of fun in my room," he continued, this time sucking on her ear. "I've got uppers-"

"Touch me again and you'll never be able to get an upper again," she said with an easy smile.

"You're kind of a cunt, you know that?"

Ah, here came the name-calling. Shocker. "Yeah, I do. Now leave me alone, prettyboy."

Thankfully he did just that. Taking a sip of her beer, she surveyed her surroundings from where she was sitting on the deck. The party was in full swing, music blaring from inside the house, the backyard crowded with people. At first the party had been a great distraction from her problems but now she was getting sick of it. Her phone vibrated again, and she took it out of her pocket. Arthur was calling her. "What do you want?" she answered.

"Where are you?"

"Out."

"Cobb's worried about you."

She snickered. "Yeah, sure he is."

"I'm serious."

"Then why don't you console him?"

She hung up; the last thing she wanted to hear was Arthur defending Dom. Unfortunately, Arthur wasn't one to give up easy. He kept calling her, and she kept hitting ignore, until eventually she answered his call again. "When a girl hangs up on you it implies she doesn't want you to call her again. Do you not realize that?"

"If you really didn't want to hear from me, you could have always turned your phone off."

It was frustrating as hell how he could see through her. "What do you want, Arthur?"

"To talk. Where are you?"

"At a party. Having the time of my life."

"You sound miserable."

"You're wrong."

"Tell me where you are. I'll come and pick you up."

"Not interested."

"What if I said this isn't about you? Maybe I'm having a bad day."

"You're lying."

"Humour me anyway."

She sighed, pondering her options. The truth was she was aching to see Arthur, to talk to him, but a part of her was afraid of how much she wanted it. They'd been avoiding each for a week now, ever since he came over for dinner, and even though she'd missed him terribly, she assured herself it was for the best; there was no point in getting attached to someone when she was only going to be here for a few more weeks.

"I'll buy you dinner," he offered.

"I want McDonalds. And I don't want a lecture about how horrible the food is for me."

She could almost hear him smile on the phone. "Fine. No lecture. Now tell me where you are."

She gave him directions.

It was chilly outside, the wind blowing, waves crashing against the rocks. She definitely wasn't dressed for the weather especially considering they were sitting at the beach in the dark. Raising her knees to her chin, she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm.

"Cold?" Arthur asked.

She turned to look at him. "Nothing gets past you does it?"

He smirked. Removing his jacket, he covered her shoulders with it. She couldn't help but notice how careful he was not to touch her bare skin, as if the slightest contact between them would dissolve the platonic mask they had put on for the last hour.

"Were you lying before or is this really your favourite spot?" she asked.

He looked straight ahead at the ocean. "I wasn't lying. I come here all the time to think."

He was sitting next to her on the blanket but it felt like he was suddenly a million miles away. There was darkness in him, buried so deeply into his soul that it was easy to forget it was even there, but there were moments – like now – when it came to the surface briefly and all she wanted was to hold him, comfort him, make him forget the pain.

"Cobb saved me," Arthur said after a long bout of silence.

His words surprised her. "What do you mean?"

"I was a mess before, completely fucked up. If Cobb hadn't helped me, I would have either ended up dead or behind bars."

"I don't believe that."

He turned his head and met her gaze finally.

"I am who I am today because of Cobb. I owe him everything."

"Okay, so he helped, but he doesn't get to take all the credit for you; you helped yourself too," she replied stubbornly and reached out to cover his hand with her own. Arthur practically jumped at her touch but didn't fight her. "You may still think you owe him but I see how much he relies on you, expects from you. You do so much for him. The debt's been paid, Arthur. Trust me."

"He's a good guy."

"I don't want to hear this."

She moved to stand up but he held her, cradling her face. The unexpected intimacy between them left her mind reeling, her stomach quivering. As much as she wanted to run, she couldn't, not when his piercing gaze anchored her in place. "Arthur-"

"I know he hurt you but I'm asking you to forgive him."

She was suddenly angry, as pissed off as she was this morning during her argument with Dom. Here she was completely unsettled because Arthur was _touching_ her, and his scent filled her nostrils, and she was struggling to breathe and keep herself in check, but the only thing he seemed to care about was her father. And who the hell was he even to ask her of that?

"Is that why you're here? Did he send you to fucking apologize for him?" she bit out.

"No, he doesn't know."

"This is none of your business, Arthur."

"I know."

Her bottom lip trembled. "You have _no right_ to ask me that."

"I know."

"He doesn't want anything to do with me. He looks at me and he feels _nothing_. You think he wants my forgiveness? He doesn't. He wants me gone." She tried to remain calm but it was a losing battle; she felt herself crack, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.

Arthur pulled her on to his lap, circling his arms around her, and she sunk into him completely, her head nestled in the crook between his neck and shoulder and her fingers curled into his shirt.

She didn't know how long they remained in that position, time seemed to have stopped. He dropped light kisses on top of her head and along her temple while she let her emotions spill, emptying them all onto him. He whispered her name over and over again, his voice the warm, soothing touch she needed to finally calm herself.

"Why does he hate me so much?" she asked.

"He doesn't."

"Fine, maybe hate is too strong a word, but he definitely doesn't want anything to do with me. Why?"

"He's afraid."

"Don't give me that bullshit, Arthur. He can't wait for me to leave."

"He'll never admit it but I think it's because you look like her."

"And because of that he doesn't want anything to do with me? How is that fair?"

"It's not, I know. He doesn't talk about it but I gathered he went on a downward spiral after your mom died. He started drinking and then got into a few accidents. I think that's when Miles stepped in and Dom realized he couldn't take care of you. He was barely a few years older than you are now."

"And what about now? He's in recovery; he's learned his lesson-"

"But that need is always in him... and he's worried if he lets his guard down, his resolve will weaken. He's not perfect, but he's trying his best."

"He's not trying at all, Arthur," she sighed, "but you refuse to see it."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Just... just don't say anything."

His arms tightened around her, almost as if to make amends, and she clung to him, desperately in need of his embrace. The chill she had felt earlier was now completely gone, replaced by the heat of his touch, the warmth of his breath against her temple. She felt the quickening of his heart, and wondered if he sensed the tremors that ran through her body.

It dawned on her all of a sudden exactly how intimately they were connected, how much she wanted him, and the thought frightened her. Sex was never really about love or passion for her, it was something she used to gain an advantage over someone, or a distraction from her problems. She had fun, sure, but she'd never longed sexually for anyone, never felt the kind of passion people raved about. Until now. Every moment that she spent with Arthur, she was fully aware of him, her body acutely sensitive, desire coursing through her veins. But it wasn't just about the sexual attraction. She wanted to completely immerse herself in him, share his every thought, take away all the pain that marked his body and soul. She wanted to protect him from the world, take care of him so no one would ever dare to hurt him again.

"Be patient with him. He just needs time. If he could give someone like me a chance-"

"But you're easy to love, Arthur," she interjected. "I'm... not. I'm a mess."

"Don't be stupid. You're amazing."

It wasn't just his words that captured her attention, it was the subtle shift in his voice. She pulled herself away to look at him, and he gazed at her with the same longing she felt, his eyes brimming with such equal desperation and anguish it made her heart ache. Ariadne realized he actually meant what he said, he truly believed she was worth something. And she knew she couldn't let fear get in the way of what she really wanted.

Holding his face tenderly in her hands, she closed her mouth over his.


	5. Chapter 5

Holding Arthur's face tenderly in her hands, Ariadne closed her mouth over his. The kiss was gentle, more of a peck on the lips than anything else; it was only meant to be a simple gesture expressing how much his words meant to her. And even though she yearned for him desperately, she held back – especially when she realized he wasn't responding to her. Finally, she pulled away to look at him.

His gaze was fixed on her, the brown of his eyes darker than she'd ever seen, and he studied her with an intensity that made every nerve in her body painfully aware of him. Just when she thought she could no longer bear the tension between them, he fisted the back of her head, bringing her close, and kissed her with sudden forcefulness.

There was nothing chaste about this embrace, his mouth ravaging hers, demanding, taking. She stilled at first, stunned with his unexpected fervor, but the moment his tongue met hers, she came back to life. She kissed him back with equal frenzy, moaning into his mouth when his hands roughly threw down his jacket that she had been wearing and his fingers dug into her back. Moving quickly and with purpose, he picked her up and shifted her to lie down on the blanket. On top of her now, his body held her down and she writhed underneath his tantalizing weight. Throughout it all, they never pulled apart, mouths still devouring each other.

She wanted him with every fiber of her being, her body craving his, desperately needing more than he was giving. Her legs wrapped around his thighs, and she felt the heat of his body through the layers of clothing between them, and as much as she wanted to reach down and touch him, she couldn't because his fingers were tightly wound around hers. But she wasn't one to give up easily. Determined for closer contact, she raised her hips against his and tightened her grip around him. It had the desired effect and a guttural moan escaped his lips.

Suddenly, he moved away.

Her mind still reeling, she tried to cling to him haphazardly but he was stronger, faster, and within seconds he was on his feet. "Arthur?" she asked breathlessly, trying to cope with the unexpected distance between them.

He stared down at her, panting, before finally responding. "We should go. It's late."

"You're kidding me, right?"

He didn't bother to answer. Turning around, he started walking back to the car, leaving her brain spinning with a thousand unanswered questions.

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Ariadne wondered if he was finally going to speak now that they had reached Dom's house. The car ride had been unbearably silent, the tension between them thick and palpable. There were many times she had turned to look at him, hoping her pleading glances will urge him to say something – anything - but he refused to acknowledge her, instead staring straight ahead.

"How long are you going to keep ignoring me?" she asked, finally breaking the silence between them.

"You should go in. I'm sure Cobb is worried about you."

"Stop bringing him up. This has nothing to do with him." Her voice broke mid-sentence as she struggled not to fall apart in front of him. "You kissed me, Arthur."

"I know," he sighed, and turned his head to the other side, away from her. "I shouldn't have."

With the stick shift between them she scooted as close as she could get and gripped his elbow. "I'm glad you did."

"Don't say that," he replied, shrugging her hand away.

"Why not? I'm only being honest."

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"It was going to happen sooner or later, Arthur."

"Shouldn't have happened at all," he repeated stubbornly.

"I want you."

The words were out before she even realized she had spoken them out loud, and even though a part of her regretted them, it was relief that washed over her. She hadn't wanted to admit these feelings, even to herself, and combined with the fake 'nice girl' mask she slipped on for her father, a part of her had felt like it was suffocating inside. At least now these feelings were out in the open, and maybe she and Arthur could finally start dealing with the consequences of what they meant.

Unfortunately, when he still didn't react to her words several minutes later, her insecurities started to kick in full-force. Sitting next to him as she waited for his response to her declaration, she never felt more vulnerable and exposed than she did now right now. Finally, she grew tired of his silence. "What? You have nothing to say?"

"I think we should forget this happened and move on."

Those were not the words she'd been expecting to hear. "Excuse me?"

He finally turned towards her and confronted her with a cold, steely gaze which she was unaccustomed to from him. "You're bored, Ariadne, you're having problems with your father, and I'm the closest thing to a friend you have over here. You don't really want me; you're just looking for anyone who can distract you."

Rage surged through her, hot and uncontrolled, and it was all she could do not to reach out and smack him across the face. She couldn't believe this Arthur was the same sensitive guy who had listened to her and comforted her not even half an hour ago; right now he was behaving like a condescending asshole who didn't think her capable of knowing her own mind. "Fuck you, Arthur!" She stormed out of his car but not before slamming the door shut as hard as possible.

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Staring up at the ceiling, Ariadne pondered her current situation. She didn't think she could feel any worse after the fight with her father this morning but Arthur had easily accomplished that feat earlier. Obviously coming here had been a huge mistake. She couldn't wait to return to Paris, and slip back into her old life where things were familiar and she wasn't faced with constant disappointments. Hell, she just wanted to go back to being the same person who didn't care what others thought of her. No Dom, no Arthur, and none of this heartache that left her feeling this miserable.

A knock on the door brought her out of her reverie.

"Ariadne, can I please come in?"

She contemplated ignoring him but ultimately decided it would be easier to face Dom now than putting it off till later. "It's your house. You can do what you want."

Her father opened the door but didn't approach her right away; instead he lingered, seemingly worried and hesitant. "I wanted to speak to you about this morning."

"I'm waiting with bated breath," she muttered sarcastically.

She observed him silently as he took tentative steps towards before finally sitting down at the far end of the bed. "I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have lost my temper. You had every right to be upset with me."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Dom gazed at her with a stunned expression on his face. "I don't hate you."

"Really? Because you don't seem very thrilled with me being here. And let's not forget how you conveniently forgot about me for years. "

"We all felt it would be best if your grandparents raised you. I was… a mess, Ariadne. And you deserved better than an alcoholic father."

"But then you got better," she said, and her voice cracked with emotion. "So why didn't you take me back?"

He sighed heavily, a thousand burdens weighing heavily down on his shoulders. "There are things you don't know, Ariadne."

"Then tell me! I deserve to know the truth."

Dom stayed silent a long time before answering, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his brain, pondering the outcome of their situation.

"What do you know about how your mother died?" he finally continued, watching her keenly.

"Just that she died in an accident. Why?"

"It wasn't as simple as that. Your mom… she committed suicide."

She sat there, stunned, quietly digesting his words. Somehow she never expected to hear that. Her grandparents never even hinted at something like that in all the years she had lived with them. "Are you sure?" she asked and felt incredibly foolish even as the words left her mouth. Of course he was sure. What a stupid question to ask.

"We didn't know how to break it to you when it happened. The concept of death alone was difficult enough to comprehend for a child… and your grandmother felt it would be better for you if you didn't know about the suicide. We didn't want anything to taint your memories of Sabine."

"Why did she do it?"

He did not respond right away, instead staring down at his feet, and she pondered the pain he must have been feeling; after all, she was asking him to remember and share all the painful memories that had led to his alcoholism in the first place. She felt guilty for putting him in that position but not enough to ask him to stop; she wanted to know the truth. His back arched, shoulders slumped, Dom appeared to be lost in despair, and she ached to reach out and comfort him.

"Your mother had suffered from depression for a long time," he explained after a while. "She was on medication for most of her life but after we were married… I thought that maybe things were getting better for her. She seemed happier at least. But she wasn't."

"Why didn't she get help?"

"I don't know, Ariadne," he sighed. "I ask myself that all the time. Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she come to me? Why didn't I notice that she was getting worse? I was her husband, I was supposed to help her, protect her, but I didn't… I think about the pain she must have been in, the desperation she felt…"

He was in complete anguish, broken, desolate, and she scooted closer to comfort him.

"I failed her," he whimpered.

"It's not your fault. You didn't know…"

"But I should have."

Ariadne didn't know what else she could say to console him, words just didn't seem enough, and so she held him tightly and hoped that would provide him with some comfort.

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For most of her life the one thing Ariadne had desperately craved was a relationship with her father. Now, after all this time, she finally had that. Ever since Dom confessed the truth about Sabine, it was as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his shoulders. These days he seemed like a changed man, one who actually laughed and joked around; hell, she no longer had to twist his arm to spend time with her. They actually went out for dinner quite often, he took her to his favourite tourist spots, restaurants, and museums. But what she enjoyed the most about their time together was when they visited buildings he picked out that had interesting architectural designs. He could spend hours talking about architecture and not only did his deep-rooted passion for it fascinate her, she was also beginning to develop an interest in the topic itself.

And yet, it felt like something was missing from her life.

She used to wholeheartedly believe if she could get her father to love her, she would finally be happy and feel whole, and even though there were times it was easier to pretend she was just that and forget what was troubling her, it was harder to keep those thoughts at bay when she was lying awake at night and there was nothing to distract her.

Despite her reconciliation with her father, she wasn't entirely happy and there was only one person to blame for that: Arthur.

She hadn't spoken to him since their last fight. He was purposely staying away from her – that she was sure of. And although she ached to hear his voice, see him, and share with him the wonderful progress of her relationship with Dom, she never reached out to him. Ariadne told herself it was better this way, that these feelings would eventually pass, and she would finally be the happy, content person she always knew she could be when Dom was permanently in her life. She just had to be patient and outgrow these ridiculous emotions.

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"How would you feel if I invited Arthur to come out with us tonight?"

Ariadne held very still, trying her best not to show any change in composure. In all honesty she had hoped to be immune to Arthur by now, but the way her heart leapt up in her chest at the mere mention of him proved otherwise. However, she didn't want to arouse her father's suspicions by acting strangely. "Oh, is he still around?" she remarked, feigning a casual tone. "I thought he disappeared or something."

Dom ignored her little barb. "It's his birthday today. He usually doesn't do anything to celebrate but I was thinking of treating him to dinner."

Although she yearned to see him, she knew without a doubt he wouldn't accept Dom's invitation to go out if she were to join them. And the idea of Arthur spending his birthday alone made her feel wretched. "Why not just make it a boy's night out? I can make other plans."

"Are you sure? Why?"

"Well, hanging out with the father figure on a Saturday night isn't exactly conducive to a healthy social life. I think I need to chill with some people in my own age group."

Dom chuckled and grabbed his phone.

Appearing busy on her laptop, she listened eagerly as Dom spoke to Arthur on the phone. The conversation lasted only a few short minutes and, from what she gathered, Arthur had turned Dom down.

"Guess he refused?" she asked.

"He's not feeling well. Said he wants to stay in."

"Maybe he's going through an early midlife crisis," she joked although worried about Arthur.

"Maybe he is."

Dom went back to reading his paper, oblivious to the concerned look on her face.

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Ariadne realized the stupidity of her rash decision the moment she spotted Arthur exiting his house with a blonde woman by his side. Obviously coming here had been a huge mistake but the idea of Arthur being sick and alone on his birthday didn't sit well with her. She knew he wouldn't be happy to see her; however, she chose not to dwell on that thought when she stopped by his favourite restaurant to pick up some soup and a birthday cake for him.

Here she was now, parked along Arthur's street, watching him as he smiled flirtatiously at the woman beside him. She was tall, elegant, utterly gorgeous. Everything Ariadne wasn't. And there was no hint of discomfort or awkwardness between Arthur and the stranger; it became even more obvious they were intimately familiar with each other when he leaned in to open her car door and grazed her lips with his own.

A sharp pang of jealousy struck her chest, overwhelming her to the point where she felt physically sick to her stomach. Closing her eyes, she leaned back and took deep breaths.

When she looked up again, the woman was driving away, alone, and Arthur had already gone inside the house. The fact that he didn't leave with the blonde should have comforted her but it didn't. Ariadne still wanted to vomit, to lash out, but more than anything else she just wanted to confront him.

Grabbing the bag of food next to her, she slipped out of the car and stormed towards his house.

It was several minutes before he answered her knocks which only infuriated her more. By the time he finally did open the door, she was fuming, and his displeased look upon seeing her didn't exactly help calm her down.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Ariadne pushed past him and came inside. "Dom said you were feeling too sick to go out for your birthday. Obviously, that was a lie."

His cheeks flushed a bright red but the guilty expression on his face was quickly replaced with irritation. "Are you spying on me now?" he responded stiffly, his back against the door and one hand on the knob – in case he needed to throw her out?

She glared at him. "I felt bad about you being alone today. Guess I'm a real idiot, huh?"

"I don't owe you any explanations."

"Don't make me throw this food in your face, Arthur!"

"Maybe you should calm down."

"And maybe you should go fuck yourself!"

She would not cry in front of him again, absolutely not. He did not deserve her tears. She'd been foolish to believe he was different from all the other men she had encountered in her life when he was exactly like the rest of them. No, he was even worse because he had managed to fool her and get past her defenses.

Before all her walls came crashing down, she walked to the kitchen and dropped the bag of food on his counter. She just needed to breathe, and calm down, and not think about the devastation that was slowly threatening to overtake her. She wanted her anger to resurface - it was easier to deal with rage than to get caught up in this excruciating pain in her heart – and the quickest way to do that was to remind herself he was a jerk, a lying jerk, a fucking jerk who liked playing head games and thought she was too stupid to make her own decisions. An absolute bastard. An assh-

"Are you alright?" he asked from behind.

She didn't turn around. Couldn't. Not yet. "Tell me I've been imagining all of it."

"What?"

"Tell me there's nothing between us. Tell me again how I've just been using you."

He remained silent; she turned around. Arthur was standing by the fridge, observing her with a concerned gaze, but she didn't want to believe he was worried about her.

"Tell me you had a girlfriend when you kissed me. Better yet, tell me the only reason you kissed me back was because I threw myself at you." No, no, no. He wasn't supposed to come closer, or look at her like he actually cared. She wanted him to be the opposite: the same guy who coldly dismissed her in his car. "Tell me you've only put up with me because of Dom." Her voice cracked, her eyes filled with tears, and she felt herself trembling, and this was inot/i how she wanted to react. She wanted to be strong, angry, walk out of here with her head held high and with the knowledge she'd been right about Arthur being a bastard all along.

"Tell me to leave," she urged. "Please."

He reached out to comfort her, hold her, and as hard as she struggled to push him away, he didn't back down.

"I don't want to feel this anymore," she cried into his chest, hating herself for not having enough strength to break out of his firm embrace. "I don't want to want you, I don't want to think about you…"

"I know," he murmured, his lips softly grazing her temple.

"Help me. _Please_. Tell me you feel nothing so I can forget about you and move on."

This time, it was Arthur's voice that cracked with emotion. "I can't."

"_Please_," she begged again.

"I can't, Ariadne, I can't," he whispered, clinging to her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. "I wish I could but I can't. I'm falling in love with you, Ariadne."


	6. Chapter 6

**Please note there is mature adult content in this chapter.**

* * *

><p>Before Arthur could slip past her defenses again, Ariadne walked to the kitchen and dropped the bag of food on the counter. She just needed to breathe, and calm down, and not think about the devastation that was slowly threatening to overtake her. She wanted her anger to resurface - it was easier to deal with rage than to get caught up in this excruciating pain in her heart – and the quickest way to do that was to remind herself he was a jerk, a lying jerk, a fucking jerk who liked playing head games and thought she was too stupid to make her own decisions. An absolute bastard. An as sh-<p>

"Are you alright?" he asked from behind.

She didn't turn around. Couldn't. Not yet. "Tell me I've been imagining all of it."

"What?"

"Tell me there's nothing between us. Tell me again how I've just been using you."

He remained silent; she turned around. Arthur was standing by the fridge, observing her with a concerned gaze, but she didn't want to believe he was worried about her.

"Tell me you had a girlfriend when you kissed me. Better yet, tell me the only reason you kissed me back was because I threw myself at you." No, no, no. He wasn't supposed to come closer, or look at her like he actually cared. She wanted him to be the opposite: the same guy who coldly dismissed her in his car. "Tell me you've only put up with me because of Dom." Her voice cracked, her eyes filled with tears, and she felt herself trembling, and this was inot/i how she wanted to react. She wanted to be strong, angry, walk out of here with her head held high and with the knowledge she'd been right about Arthur being a bastard all along.

"Tell me to leave," she urged. "Please."

He reached out to comfort her, hold her, and as hard as she struggled to push him away, he didn't back down.

"I don't want to feel this anymore," she cried into his chest, hating herself for not having enough strength to break out of his firm embrace. "I don't want to want you, I don't want to think about you…"

"I know," he murmured, his lips softly grazing her temple.

"Help me. Please. Tell me you feel nothing so I can forget about you and move on."

This time, it was Arthur's voice that cracked with emotion. "I can't."

"Please," she begged again.

"I can't, Ariadne, I can't," he whispered, clinging to her so tightly she almost couldn't breathe. "I wish I could but I can't. I'm falling in love with you, Ariadne."

She stilled in his arms, holding her breath; she must have imagined his words out of sheer desperation. But then he repeated them, this time dropping soft kisses on top of her head. Suddenly, with a level of strength she didn't think she was capable of, Ariadne pushed him away. He faltered backwards, clearly surprised by her little outburst.

"What the fuck?" he yelled, glaring at her.

"You're an ass, you know that?"

"Why? Because I just told you I loved you?"

"Were you in love with me when you were hanging out with that blonde?" she fired back. "Were you thinking of me when you were fucking her?" Ariadne knew she was probably overreacting but the fact he was claiming to love her now when only a few minutes ago he was kissing someone else made her blood boil. If nothing else, at least they had always been honest with each other but now he was blatantly lying to her and she wouldn't stand for it. "You're such a fucking liar, Arthur!"

"Shut up," he ordered calmly, regaining control entirely too quickly for her liking.

"Go to hell!" She tried to move past him but he stood in her way, cornering her against the kitchen counter, invading her personal space to the point where she had to lean back just so she could glare up at him. Suddenly aware of his close proximity, she found herself struggling to breathe, and the urge to flee increased exponentially when his gaze intensified and focused in on her, wreaking havoc with her senses.

The last time he had looked at her with such devotion had been on the beach, just before he had kissed her with a forcefulness that had since been etched into her brain permanently. And now he was doing it again. "Let me go," she bit out, trying her best to hold on to her anger and finding it impossible to when he cradled her face in his hands. She fought to take a breath and regain her composure. However, between the lingering graze of his thumbs on her cheeks and the twinkle in his eyes, she could barely stand up straight. And from his teasing smile, she gathered he was fully aware of the effect he was having on her. Bastard.

"I didn't fuck her," he murmured. "The opportunity presented itself but I didn't take it."

His words should not have made her ecstatic as they did. "You didn't?"

"No." His thumb gently swiped over her bottom lip and she quivered under his touch. "It wouldn't be very fair since I can't stop thinking about you."

Her stomach fluttered with excitement. "Because you're in love with me?" she asked hesitantly and pressed her palms against his chest.

"Yeah…"

Ariadne couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at her with such tenderness. From the hesitancy in his eyes to the desperate way he clung to her, his vulnerability was evident, and it made her heart ache. "I… Arthur…"

He nuzzled her nose with his own.

"These last few weeks without you… I thought… I've never felt more miserable," she explained.

"Good," he smirked.

She rubbed his chest affectionately. "Not talking to you made me sick to my stomach… even though things are finally great with Dom."

"Why do you think that is?"

Ariadne knew how she felt about him. As much as she had tried to deny the intensity of her feelings, it was crystal clear to her now. However, recognizing the emotion and vocalizing it were two different things – especially when she had yet to come to terms with it herself. "I'm scared, Arthur."

"And you don't think I am?"

His hand covered her own, and led her to the spot where his heart resided in his chest. She felt it beat rapidly, much like her own, ready to explode out of his body.

"This is what happens every time I'm around you," he whispered, his brown eyes sparkling with emotion.

"That can't be good," she said with a small smile.

"Tell me about it."

"What if…" her voice trailed off, unsure and filled with trepidation.

"What?"

"I mess things up," she continued. "I always do. I don't want to, I never want to do anything to hurt you, Arthur, but what if-"

He kissed her mid-sentence, his lips soft and tender against hers. She responded instantly, reaching up on her tip-toes for better access, and linked her fingers together behind his head. Desperate to show him the depth of her feelings – with action if not through words - she returned his kiss with frenzied passion. His hands swept over her body with a slow, deliberate rhythm before moving to cup her ass. When he picked her up suddenly and set her down on the kitchen counter, her legs encircled his thighs in a tight grip and pulled him in closer. Ariadne pressed herself against him, desperate for more than just the languid kiss they were sharing, but Arthur maintained the slow pace without proceeding any further. At first she assumed he was teasing her, taunting her as he liked to do, but when he remained entirely too composed, she realized there was more going on with him. Pulling away, she looked at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his forehead burrowed with confusion.

Her fingers laced through his hair affectionately, and she gave him a tender smile. "I'm not fragile, Arthur."

He remained silent, watching her with a keen gaze.

"I want you," she murmured, leaving soft butterfly kisses along his jaw-line as her fingers worked down to his chest and started unbuttoning his shirt. "All of you. The real you. You don't have to hold back to protect me."

It amazed her how his words seemed to visibly relax him. One minute she was trying to coax him into a kiss, the next his mouth had latched on to hers with a fierceness that left her breathless. He was no longer controlled, reserved; his true nature now unleashed. This was how she wanted him: unmasked, emotionally naked, and volatile – the way he was on the beach.

He kissed her with an intensity that made her weak in the knees, and desperate to touch him. She tried to unbutton the rest of his shirt but with her hands trembling, and her body refusing to co-operate with her brain, she had little success. Arthur, however, was a lot more efficient as he didn't waste any time on the buttons; he went straight to ripping her shirt off with very little effort, throwing the piece of fabric to the ground.

"I just bought that," she whispered into his mouth, panting, while he left a trail of wet kisses along her neck before skimming her collarbone with his teeth.

"I'll buy you a new one."

As if connected and familiar with every sensitive part of her, he worked her with his mouth and fingers, sucking the incredibly sensitive spot in her neck - which she felt right down to her toes – while he unhooked her bra. Seconds later, he took a step back to study her.

Self-consciousness surged through her as she sat in front of him, half-naked and absolutely vulnerable, even more so when his eyes drifted down to her exposed breasts. In the past she never really yearned for bigger breasts or a more curvaceous body like many of her friends- ultimately she was mostly secure about her appearance and never really cared about her lover's opinion of her - but she didn't think she could bear if it Arthur was disappointed with what he saw. "I know, I know, I need a boob job," she said self-deprecatingly, trying to ease her anxiousness.

He finally locked eyes with her. "No, you're perfect."

Between the heat of his gaze and the honest sincerity behind his words, that was all the reassurance she needed. "Come here," she said, holding her arms out to him. Arthur kissed her again, more hungrily this time, and she groaned into his mouth when his thumb circled her right nipple before pinching her softly, teasing it until it was a hard nub, and then he lavished the other breast with the same attention.

She squealed with surprise when he lifted her and started carrying her out of the kitchen, and she circled her legs around his waist, clinging to him fiercely. "Don't drop me," she groaned between kisses, which was exactly what he did when they reached the couch in the living room. "Jerk," she grumbled, landing on the cushions.

Kneeling down in front of her, he gave her a mischievous smirk. He moved to kiss her again but she leaned back on the couch, and returned his smile. "Take off your clothes."

He quirked his eyebrow. "Do it for me."

Grinning, she sat up, and began to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

Ever since she'd discovered his scars all those weeks ago, she had been aching to touch them, to run her fingers along his skin, to soothe them. And she finally had her chance now. The wounds on his body had healed long ago but she still worried about hurting him. "Can I touch them?"

"I'm not fragile," he said softly, repeating her words from earlier.

And that was all she needed to hear. With her lips and hands she traced every scar of his, and he came vibrantly alive under her touch. She teased his nipples, licked them, and his fingers thread through her hair in response, digging into her scalp.

It wasn't long before she undressed him completely – with only a little help from him – and had her fingers wrapped around his cock, playing with him, stroking him, and finally taking him inside her mouth.

He wasn't quiet in his appreciation, gasping her name out loud, telling her how much he wanted to fuck her over and over again. Everything about him excited her, from the hoarseness of his voice as he groaned 'Ariadne', to the gentle way he ran his fingers through her hair (holding her tenderly as she continued to suck him off), to the roughness of his hands while he clutched her shoulders.

As pleasurable as it was to watch him lose control, however, it paled in comparison to how he made her feel when their roles were reversed and she was the one writhing as he stripped the remainder of her clothes away and traced his lips along her legs, and thighs, and ultimately reached the very core of her. Her legs hooked over his shoulders, she moaned as he circled her clit with his tongue, tasting her, sucking her, his finger slipping into her wetness followed by another and then he curved them inside her in just the right angle, hitting the very spot that instantly turned her into a boneless, liquid pool. Soon she was screaming his name, squirming, eventually scooting off the couch and falling to the floor – without breaking any physical contact him – because she could no longer hold on. He brought her to the very edge, and didn't stop even when she fell apart under his touch, his fingers still working her thoroughly. "Arthur!" she moaned repeatedly, lost in her own little world, as the waves of pleasure washed over her.

"Look at me."

There was raw possessiveness in his voice, beckoning her to obey him, and she met his gaze even as the aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her.

"What do you want, Ariadne?"

"Fuck me," she expelled breathlessly.

Arthur gaped at her, frozen in place; in turn, she reached up and teased his lips with her fingers. "Any time now, Arthur. Or I just may change my mind." She giggled when he leapt up in a mad rush and headed to the bathroom, presumably to find a condom.

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Ariadne wasn't a virgin, and hadn't been one for years (even if the number of men she'd been with was significantly lower than most people assumed). Although most of her flings were with older men, she could honestly say nothing in her experience had prepared her for this kind of intimacy with Arthur. It wasn't only about the sex; it was a combination of being with him and the abundance of complex emotions he made her feel. Right now, she was simultaneously frightened and more excited than she ever had been in her life.

When he plunged inside her, she clung to him tightly, her nails leaving their own mark on his already scarred back. Their bodies connected, eyes locked, he thrust into her, languidly, set to a torturous rhythm, until she begged him for more, pleaded with him to fuck her harder, screamed for the hot sensation of release. Then, with a wicked smile on his lips that stole her breath away, he gathered her in his arms and pulled her up to sit on his lap, his hands spanning her waist while her legs curved around his lower back. They sat face-to-face, and he penetrated even deeper inside her, rocking her hips back and forth, the friction stimulating her clit to the point where her senses exploded. He pressed his lips against hers, swallowing her moans, cradling her in his arms when she shuddered with an explosive orgasm. He climaxed shortly after, groaning her name loudly, and she was the one who held him this time.

Panting for air, their bodies slick with sweat and joined in a tight embrace, they exchanged sweet, chaste kisses while their heartbeats slowly returned to normal. Eventually they fell back on the floor, sated and exhausted, and still wrapped up in one another.

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"Who did this to you?"

Arthur expelled a heavy sigh in response. Maybe it wasn't her place to ask, but she couldn't help herself; she wanted to get to know every part of him: the good, the bad, the secrets he kept hidden in the crevices of his heart. In the past few months he had sneaked past all the walls she had put up and firmly ingrained himself into her very soul, and even though it terrified her, it was also exhilarating to know there wasn't anything she couldn't share with him. And she desperately wanted to him to feel the same.

Her head was comfortably nestled in the hollow between his neck and shoulder while her fingertips drew patterns on his chest. Occasionally he dropped kisses on her forehead which made her snuggle in even closer. Unfortunately, upon hearing her question, his body was now tense.

"I was shipped between foster homes when I was growing up. These scars are a gift from one of the less happy ones."

Just listening to his casual tone as he discussed – and dismissed – what must have been a horrific childhood made her heart burst with sadness and she hugged him (the selfish part of her grudgingly had to admit it was more for herself than him). "What happened to your parents?"

"Don't know. I doubt my mother actually knew who knocked her up. And child services took me away when she seemed more interested in shooting heroine than feeding me."

"Did you ever look for her?"

"Why would I?"

Silence ensued, and she couldn't help but notice his grip had tightened around her.

"You want to know how I met Cobb?"

"How?"

"Court-ordered anger management classes."

She shifted back to look up at Arthur. "Really?"

He smiled. "The guy running the class was a friend of Cobb's. He thought it would be a good idea if I met someone who managed to stop the whole self-destructive pattern."

"And you did," she said proudly, beaming at him.

"It wasn't easy. And Cobb had to kick my ass many, many times but I guess that's what I needed to straighten my life out."

She nuzzled his skin.

"I know he hasn't been a great dad-"

"Doesn't matter," she interjected. Balancing her head on her elbow next to him on the pillow, she peered down at him. "I'm glad he was there for you."

"Things are going okay with you guys, right?"

He smoothed her lips with his fingers and she kissed the tips gently. "More than okay. They're great."

"I told you it would get better."

"Yeah, you did."

"He told you about your mom?"

It wasn't really a question; she had already guessed Dom must have confided in Arthur about confessing the truth about her mother's suicide to her. "Yeah."

"Want to talk about it?"

She returned to lie down next to him. "No, not really. I try not to think about that."

Giving her a soft peck on the forehead, he slid his arm around her and brought her right up against his chest.

For the first time that she could remember, Ariadne felt truly, genuinely happy, and she was determined to hold on to that feeling no matter what.


	7. Chapter 7

Ariadne was never one to think about the future; she liked to live in the present and not dwell on things she had no control over. Arthur, as she was beginning to realize, was the complete opposite of her. He was meticulous about important matters, planning and organizing to the littlest details, while she liked to be spontaneous. And when it came to problems, he would rather deal with them head on and forcefully whereas she preferred avoiding challenges until it was absolutely necessary to face them. However, despite the differences in their personalities, they just seemed to fit together. It didn't mean that they didn't fight – they did, numerous times. But at the end of the day, when she was all worked up over a silly argument and he was winding down from it, all he had to do was flash a soft, silly smile and her anger simply melted away.

It had been almost two months since they started seeing each other, and even though they had to be secretive, things were going better than she had ever hoped for. Hiding their relationship from Cobb meant they couldn't spend much time with each other but it also made their moments together more special. It was as if they were in a bubble, frozen in time and protected from the all harsh realities of the world.

Ariadne broke out of her reverie when Arthur gently grazed her forehead with his lips, and his arms tightened around her. They were on his couch with Arthur lying down on the cushions, his head propped up on the armrest, while she was nestled on top of him, her cheek pressed against his chest. They were watching a movie but she had stopped paying attention a while ago. With him holding her in a tight embrace and occasionally playing with her hair, she was far more content enjoying him rather than the movie.

In the past she used to believe sex was as intimate as it could get between two people; Arthur had proved her wrong. The sex was great, but she cherished these quiet moments between them more. Not that she would ever admit it to him; he would mock her mercilessly for being a sap and never let her live it down.

"You're not even watching, are you?" he asked.

"Hmm..." was her only response followed by a yawn.

"Late night?"

"Yeah, my other boyfriend refused to leave. Jackass kept me up all night."

"This is why I only hook up with chicks at their place. Once I'm done, I can just sneak out and not worry about sticking around and making small talk."

She glared up at him, shooting him a dirty look.

"What?" he grinned. "You can dish it out but you can't take it?"

"Whatever," she smirked, crawling up his body until her face loomed over his. "You like it when I'm jealous."

He reached up to kiss her softly, and his fingers smoothed her hair along her back. "Only because you look hot when you're mad."

"Maybe I should get mad more often."

"Maybe you should."

Then suddenly, while she was still lavishing under his attention, he flipped her around, causing them both to fall off the couch and land on the floor. She started giggling at his clumsiness, laughing even more hysterically when he began to tickle her. "Stop it!" she squealed, but he continued to tease her mercilessly.

Much later, they were both lying beside each other on the floor, legs intertwined, naked, breathless, their bodies slick with sweat. They didn't say anything for a long while, but despite the comfortable silence she could sense something was bothering him. Her suspicions were confirmed when he laced his fingers through her hand and placed it over his chest.

"I'm tired of sneaking around," he said softly.

She closed her eyes. Hiding their relationship from Dom was her decision and despite the many times Arthur had tried to convince her to change her mind, she hadn't. The truth was she didn't want to tell her father because she had no idea how he would react. Even though things were great with Dom at the moment, there was always a foreboding sense of uncertainty hanging in the air - the littlest thing could unravel their carefully constructed truce and she sensed her relationship with Arthur had the potential to implode her bond with Dom. And then there was that tiny selfish part of her that refused to let anything harm her connection with Arthur. The more they let the outside world in, the greater the risk of them breaking apart were. And she wasn't going to let that happen - no matter what.

"We have to tell him," Arthur continued.

"We will. Soon."

"I can't keep lying to him, Ariadne."

"We're not..."

"It feels like we are."

"Why do we need to talk about this now? He's not even in town."

"Yeah well, he'll be back soon. And when he is, I think we should do it."

"I'm famished," she declared abruptly, sitting up.

His hand slid down her spine until it came to rest on the small of her back. "I love how you're always hungry when you don't want to discuss something important."

"Shut up."

Grabbing his shirt from nearby, she stood up and wrapped it around her. Shortly after she was in the kitchen, making them both omelettes when she felt his arms encircle her from behind. He nuzzled her hair affectionately, nipped her ear, before peppering her neck with soft kisses.

"Can't keep running away, Ariadne," he murmured gently.

She sensed the hesitancy in his tone, like he was afraid to push her but couldn't let himself drop the subject either, and she exhaled a resigned sigh. "I don't want things to change," she finally whispered.

"But they kind of have to, don't you think? I mean, they _should_. We need to go forward, not remain stagnant."

"Yeah well, I'm not convinced telling Dom is a sign of progress."

"What are you afraid of?"

She leaned back against him, shifting her weight onto his body. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't."

There was no trepidation, only absolute confidence in his voice. And for a moment, it was enough to calm her fears. "College starts in two months and if I'm transferring here, I definitely don't want to live with my father."

Arthur chuckled softly in her ear. "Is this your way of asking if you can move in?" he teased.

"Well, you've got plenty of room."

"And how do you think that'll go over with Cobb?"

"Oh, please. He probably won't even notice." Which was definitely true during the first few weeks of her visit but, lately, her father had been a lot more attentive.

"How am I going to have fun with other women if you're living here?"

She turned around in his arms, feigning irritation. "I guess you'll just have to do with me."

"Not sure how I feel about that."

Despite knowing he was only teasing her, the small, insecure part of her started to worry; maybe she really was pushing him for more than he was willing to give, but she was desperate to hold on to him and the happiness he brought to her life. "I'll be next to you when you wake up from your nightmares," she reminded him gently, hoping he would remember all those nights when she held him, comforted him, after he had woken up trembling and shaking in her arms. He may have dealt with his past for the most part but they still haunted his dreams, a keen reminder of the physical and emotional torture he lived through his teenage years. "I'll protect you," she continued, standing on her tip-toes to give him a soft peck on the lips. "And I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

His eyes shone bright, full of warmth and love. "My knight in shining armour."

"Riding to your rescue whenever you need," she grinned.

His finger affectionately traced her cheek. "Promise me we'll tell Cobb as soon as he gets back. And then we'll move you in here."

Gifting Arthur with a big, bright smile, she leapt up to hug him.

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The last time Ariadne had felt this anxious was when she was waiting for her father at the airport all those months ago. Dom may not have shown up that day but Arthur had – and her life had changed for the better. Although she had no idea what to expect tonight, she hoped things would work out like they had the last time. Arthur was sitting next to her, conversing with Dom who was across from them, and even though he appeared to be his usual self, she could sense the panic running through him. It was comforting to realize he was just as nervous as she was. Reaching for his hand under the table, she gave him a tight squeeze, and he appeared to relax albeit only for a moment.

"So, what are we celebrating?" Dom asked, shifting his attention from Arthur to her.

"Not sure what you mean," she replied.

"Well, that's why I assumed you wanted to talk to the both of us."

She exchanged a quick glance with Arthur before looking at Dom again. "Actually, Arthur and I wanted to talk to _you_."

Her father's expression turned to blank, completely unreadable.

"Dom, I guess... we both wanted you to know..." her voice trailed off, her throat suddenly dry.

"Cobb," Arthur interjected, surprising her when he raised their joined hands and moved to rest them on the table. No longer hidden, fully exposed under her father's keen gaze. "Ariadne and I have been seeing each other."

Silence hung in the air, thick, filled with tension. Ariadne had the sudden urge to pull her hand back, away from her father's judgemental stare, but she knew Arthur needed her strength, and so she held on.

"Cobb, say something," Arthur pleaded.

Dom's voice was cold as ice, laced with simmering anger. "My best friend is dating my daughter. I'm not sure there's anything left to be said after that."

Her heart squeezed with pain, and she looked away from her father. "This has nothing to do with you, Dom."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," Arthur said with a fierce determination. "I know you don't want to hear it, but there it is. Ariadne and I are together and that's that."

"In that case, there really is no point in me being here, is there?" Dom pulled out his wallet and threw some cash on the table, and stood up.

"You're really going to leave?" Arthur asked.

"Let him go," she said, resigned, watching after her father as he left the restaurant.

"I need to go after him."

"Why? What's the point?" she argued.

"I have to make him understand." Arthur gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Meet you back at my place?"

She nodded her head silently, unable to look at him as he rushed out of the restaurant.

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It was hours later and Ariadne was past the point of worrying and in full-fledged panic mode. She had tried calling Arthur several times, texting him as well, but he had yet to respond to her. Finally she grabbed a bottle of scotch, hoping the drink would soothe her nerves, but she still remained fidgety after a few sips. Eventually she headed to his bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes, and slipped underneath the covers to wait for him.

It was the sensation of someone's hands on her feet, caressing her skin, which woke her up. She opened her eyes to find Arthur sitting at the foot of the bed, a drink in one hand and the other on her legs, watching her intensely. His shirt was half open, his hair dishevelled, and her heart started beating erratically at the sight of him. Something was wrong; she could feel it. "Arthur?"

He bent down to set his empty glass on the floor before answering her, his piercing gaze now boring into her. "You've never told me you loved me."

She sat up, suddenly aware of the harsh rage laced in his voice.

"Even though I've told you how I feel over and over again," he continued.

"I've never said those words to anyone," she confessed. "But I feel the same way about you. You _know_ that."

"I deserve to hear you say it, don't you think?"

"I love you."

He snickered, pushing her legs off his lap, and stood up. "Next time you may want to sound like you actually mean it."

"I _do_."

His eyes focused on her, and for a second she caught a glimpse of the man she had fallen madly, and impossibly, in love with, but the moment quickly dissipated and she was once again confronted by someone she barely recognized. A stranger brimming with unexplained hostility. "What did Dom say to you?"

"You have a history of doing this."

Now she was the one who couldn't keep her temper in check. "Doing _what_ exactly? Just spit it out."

"Latching on to older guys. Moving on to the next one when you're done with them."

The pain was sharp, brutal, his every word stabbing her heart and cracking into a thousand pieces. But she refused to break in front of him, she wouldn't. "And how the fuck would Dom know anything about my history?"

"Miles filled him in when you first got here. But he had no reason to share them with me until tonight." Arthur gave her a bitter smile. "Is it true?"

"What difference does it make? It's a part of my past."

"No, it isn't," he bit out. "It's here. It's now. It's a fucking pattern you have. And I need to know if I was just another notch on the belt."

Unable to look at him, her gaze dropped to the floor. After everything they'd been through, after she'd opened herself up to him like she hadn't done with anyone else, he wanted to know if he meant anything to her. With only a few words from her father who had never bothered to get to know her, Arthur had chosen to scorn everything _they'd_ shared.

For months now, she'd been dreading something like this. Maybe not _this_ precisely, but she knew it was only a matter of time before something went wrong. She'd tried so hard to hold on to him, to cling to him and keep their relationship hidden and protected from everything that could break them apart, and even then she always suspected their bond was always meant to be temporary. Sooner or later, this happiness would be ripped away from her and she would be powerless to stop it. Despite all that, she was still unprepared for his accusations and the anguish his words caused. "I've never felt this way about anyone else," she said quietly, but Ariadne knew it didn't really matter; Arthur had already made up his own mind about her and no matter how strongly she protested, he wouldn't believe her.

"Is that what you said to the professor when you moved in with him?"

She didn't bother to correct Arthur. Really, what was the point?

"How long did that last? A week? Two weeks? A month? How soon was it before you got sick of him?" he asked with a cruelty she never thought him capable of.

"I never loved him."

"But you love me? Why do I find that so hard to believe?"

She refused to answer him even as her brain demanded she scream out how much she loved him, to remind him how happy they made each other, but her pride... her pride wouldn't let her. If he could so easily disregard their experiences together, then she must never have really meant anything to him to begin with.

She felt his gaze penetrating into her back as she stood up and grabbed her clothes from the nearby chair. Silently she changed with her back to him, ignoring the sheer pain that surged through her in waves.

"So that's it? Running away as usual?" he taunted, coming up behind her as she walked out of his bedroom. "I guess you're finished with me now? You're going to move on to some other loser going through a mid-life crisis?"

Ariadne debated leaving his house without saying anything to him, but she knew she owed him the truth about her feelings. Even if he mocked her, didn't believe her, even if it cost her the very little dignity she had left, she owed him that much. Hand on the knob, door half-open, she finally turned to look at Arthur. He stood a few feet away, devastated, angry, pained. Everything she was feeling. "I love you, and I don't think you're ever going to find anyone else who loves you as much as I do. I wanted to make you happy, the same way you did. But I guess... I'm just not enough."

Ariadne didn't wait for any kind of response from him, and walked out of his house. A part of her still desperately hoped he would follow behind her, tell her he didn't care about Dom's words, tell her she was enough for him, but his absence made it crystal clear it was just a foolish dream.

Getting into her car, she briefly glimpsed at his house one last time, and then drove away.


	8. Chapter 8

Ariadne opened the door, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she realized not only did the cabin have heating but the resort staff had already turned it on. The sharp chill in the air that had sunk into her bones – despite the wool coat she was wearing - started to melt away when she stepped inside, dragging her suitcase with her. After hours of traveling, she was finally here and couldn't wait to get out of her heavy clothes and just relax.

After an hour of unpacking and a hot shower, she was comfortably clothed in pyjamas and fishing through the kitchen cabinets to find something to eat. Unfortunately her grandparents flight was delayed due to a massive snowstorm which meant they wouldn't be here till tomorrow and she had the cabin alone to herself for at least a day - not that she minded. Truth be told, she hadn't been looking forward to spending a week alone in Wyoming with her grandparents anyway but after putting them off for so long she had finally agreed to it out of guilt. They weren't getting any younger - as her grandmother liked to remind her often during their phone conversations - and now that Ariadne was living in Boston, it meant she hadn't seen them since leaving Paris almost a year ago.

After finishing up a bowl of canned soup she found in the kitchen, Ariadne planted herself on the couch and turned on the TV. An episode of _Friends_ played in the background, but she was too exhausted to pay attention. Her cell phone rang. However, it wasn't her grandfather as she expected – it was Cobb. As always, she rejected the call.

Once in a while her father tried to reach out to her, and every time it felt like an intrusion; she had no interest in keeping in touch with him. If anything, she wanted to wipe away all memories of him permanently. Unfortunately these calls were a stark reminder of a painful phase of her life that she would love to forget, but of course Cobb wouldn't leave her alone. Ultimately her father did exactly what he wanted to no thought of how it affected her.

Lying back on the cushions, Ariadne closed her eyes. As much as she loved her grandparents, she really didn't want to be here. What she wanted was to go back to Boston, to the life she had worked hard to build for herself, to a job (working in a coffee shop six days a week) that didn't demand much from her, and surround herself with strangers who never bothered to judge her. Her apartment was relatively tiny, and she had to share it with a roommate, but luckily Mal kept mostly to herself and didn't bother her too much. When Ariadne moved to Boston, all she wanted was an escape, some place where no one knew her and she didn't know anyone. The city gave her that and much more: a new home, a fresh start and, most of all, a place where she didn't have to dwell on the bad memories and past hurts. After a lifetime of chaos and chasing after unfulfilled dreams, she was finally at a place where she could stand still. It was a blessing, really, even if her grandfather thought it was a waste of her potential.

Her eyes laden with sleep, she gave into her fatigue and was soon fast asleep.

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It was a while before her brain finally registered someone was in the cabin with her. Drifting in and out of sleep, she did sense when a blanket was thrown over her, making her feel warm and cozy, but it wasn't until she heard a loud bang that she was fully alert. Sitting up, she scanned the room; there was no one there. With hesitant steps she approached the kitchen and stopped mid-stride when she caught a glimpse of someone standing near the stove with their back turned to her. And even though he hadn't turned around yet, she instantly recognized who it was.

Arthur.

Who she hadn't seen in almost two years after he broke her heart.

Who she hoped never to cross paths with again.

All of a sudden she felt lightheaded and dizzy, as if her body was overcome and incapable of dealing with the emotions she had buried for so long but were now quickly resurfacing. Her world went black, and she dropped to the ground.

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_For the first hour Ariadne drove aimlessly, circling the same streets over and over again. Eventually she ended up at the very beach Arthur had led her to, but avoided the spot she always visited with him. Instead she sat far away, gazing out at the ocean, and watched the sun come up. As the hours passed she kept waiting for the tears to come, she desperately wanted to expel her frustrations, but she felt nothing except a dull ache in the pit of her stomach._

_Hours later as she neared Dom's house, she spotted both Dom and Arthur's car in the driveway. A part of her contemplated driving past the house without stopping, but she knew she'd have to face them sooner or later. Might as well get it over with._

_After parking the car, she entered her father's house as quietly as possible. Her hopes of not running into either of them were dashed when she found Arthur in her bedroom. He was sitting on a corner of her bed, his head bent low, staring at the ground until he realized she was there._

_He glanced up at her._

_He looked exhausted, his eyes red, his hair an absolute mess._

_She paused, staring at him, the connection between them as intense as ever, and for a minute everything felt normal again, as if the events of the past few hours didn't even happen._

_But then he stood up, and she quickly came back to reality._

_Looking away from him, she headed to her closet._

_"We've been calling you," he said from behind her. "You didn't pick up. I was worried."_

_"I'm fine," she said quietly. "My phone was off."_

_She pulled out the suitcase she had brought with her from Paris and carried it to the bed._

_"Why are you packing?" he asked, panic laced in his words._

_"I booked a flight back to Paris for this afternoon."_

_All of a sudden he was in her way, standing in front of her. "You're kidding me, right? You're not leaving, Ariadne."_

_She didn't respond, instead side-stepping around him to continue packing._

_"Look," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I said some things last night I shouldn't have. I was pissed off... wasted... I just... I fucked up. But you don't have to go. We can work this out."_

_This time when she tried to walk past him he didn't let her. Grabbing her arm, he pulled her close in his arms. She didn't struggle against him; she said nothing as he held her tightly. Her face nestling against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and waited for the feelings of warmth and comfort to return. With him she always felt at peace, truly immersed in love. But now, there was nothing, only a vast emptiness. She focused on the stench of alcohol that was still strong in his breath, and pondered if he was still drunk. Would he change his mind and be angry at her again when he was sober?_

_"You're the best thing to happen to me," he murmured while his fingers threaded through her hair._

_She finally pulled away and looked up at him. "I need to finish packing."_

_His forehead burrowed, his eyes flashed with confusion. "What?"_

_"I told you, I have a flight to catch."_

_Anger stamped across his face, he glared at her. "Running away? Really? I never took you for a coward."_

_Even though a very small part of her wanted to scream at him, lash out at him, ask him why he ruined what they had, the rage wasn't strong enough to dissolve the detachment that had taken hold of her. Her body was going through the motions except she wasn't really there in the room, with him._

_Unresponsive, she walked back to the closet and grabbed the rest of her things. This time he cornered her against the wall, leaving her no space to stroll past him._

_"I know you love me," he said, his voice laden with tears. "And I love you."_

_And for a moment she felt her heart tremble in her chest, like it had decided to forcefully break free of the indifference that had taken control of her. "I always thought I would be the one to mess things up, not you. I never thought you'd hate me for things I did before I met you."_

_"I don't hate you... I couldn't... I just..." he cried._

_"I did stupid things, I know, but so did you when you were a teenager... and I thought... I always thought... you of all people would understand... wouldn't hold that stuff against me."_

_"I'm sorry, so sorry... let me make it up to you...please."_

_"I need to go, Arthur. I can't be here. With you."_

_He refused to budge, instead falling to his knees, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her stomach. "Don't do this," he begged, his words muffled against her skin. "Don't leave me. Please."_

_"I can't stay," she repeated staring down at him, grateful for the numbness that was starting to come back. Without this emptiness, she didn't think she could ever be strong enough to leave him when he was this broken. But if she stayed she would always worry about what new thing her father would uncover from her past that would make Arthur turn against her again. She couldn't live with that constant gnawing doubt in her soul. She just couldn't._

_"I can't... I can't let you go..." he whispered._

_"If you really love me, you will."_

_He seemed to realize that her words were final; she wasn't going to change her mind. His face streaked with tears, he studied her for the longest time until he finally released her and stood up. He caught her by surprise when he took the clothes from her hand and carried them to the suitcase._

_Side by side, the air tense with unspoken emotions, they worked together to pack her things._

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The sensation of his fingers smoothing her hair was the first thing Ariadne experienced when she came to. She didn't open her eyes right away, enjoying the gentle warmth of his touch. It had been too long since anyone had touched her with such affection, and knowing it was Arthur... she wasn't ready to think about what that meant yet.

"I think that's the first time I've made a woman swoon."

Obviously she wasn't fooling him by feigning sleep. Grudgingly, she looked up at him, gazed into his warm, brown eyes . And found herself sinking all over again.


	9. Chapter 9

The sensation of his fingers smoothing her hair was the first thing Ariadne experienced when she came to. She didn't open her eyes right away, enjoying the gentle warmth of his touch. It had been too long since anyone had touched her with such affection, and knowing it was Arthur... she wasn't ready to think about that yet.

"I think that's the first time I've made a woman swoon."

Obviously she wasn't fooling him by feigning sleep. Grudgingly, she looked up at him.

She had really hoped if she ever ran into Arthur again, that magnetic pull between them would have disappeared; after all, enough time had passed for the attraction to fade. Unfortunately it was still there, strong as ever, the intensity too strong for her to handle and she forced herself to look away. Even then, she still sensed his piercing gaze upon her, felt it with every nerve in her body.

Arthur appeared different, older – probably due to the facial hair; she was surprised he had chosen to keep a scruffy look considering his preference for a clean-shaven face. And his hair was slightly longer as well. She resisted the urge to run her fingers through the strands.

Despite the two years of separation, she remembered his smile all too well (it was one of the many things about him that still haunted her); it always made her weak in the knees, and it was almost impossible for her to resist those warm, brown eyes when they sparkled with mischief. Like they were doing now. "What are you doing here?" she asked, sitting up on the couch to put some distance between them.

"Miles invited me."

"Why?"

"You need to ask him that."

Silence filled the air once again as their gazes locked.

"Does your head hurt?" he asked, reaching out to touch the spot she hit against the floor. She shrugged his hand away.

"I'm fine," she replied curtly.

"You're pissed."

She didn't disagree.

"This wasn't my idea," he explained.

"And yet, here you are." She levelled him with a hostile glare, angry at herself for losing her cool in his presence. "Should I be expecting Dom to show up next?"

"Ask Miles."

Anger surged through her, building from the tight coil in her stomach and spreading all throughout her body like a virus; she wanted to scream at him, hurl at him, hurt him for coming back and setting off the fiery rage in her all over again. All this time she thought she had moved on from the pain, learned to control it, but ten minutes with Arthur and she was right back to behaving like the broken girl she never wanted to be again. "I want you to leave."

"I'm not here on your invite. If Miles wants me to go, I will."

"Following orders like a good little lackey," she taunted. "I guess some things never change."

Unfortunately he didn't rise to her taunts. If anything, he appeared amused which irritated her further until he leaned in closer, catching her by surprise. She found herself suddenly frozen in place, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Are you trying to pick a fight with me?" he murmured, his gaze languidly dropping to her lips, caressing her with his eyes.

"No!"

"Too bad. I miss arguing with you."

"Or maybe you just miss acting holier-than-thou with somebody more screwed up than you."

"You don't really believe that."

Her determination to remain polite and unaffected towards him was becoming more and more impossible. If she didn't leave his side right now, she was going to end up exposing her true emotions – the opposite of what she wanted. "It doesn't matter anyway," she said, manoeuvring herself off the couch without making any physical contact with him. "If you're not going to leave, I will."

She was almost out of the room when his words stopped her mid-stride.

"Your grandparents are worried about you. I think that's why they asked me to come."

She turned to face him. "They have no reason to worry; I'm fine."

"That's why you dropped out of college and ran away to Boston?"

It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and when it finally did, she was raging. "Who the _fuck_ do you think-"

"You asked me to let you go, and I did." He stood up, and slowly closed the distance between them. "Even though it fucking killed me to do it."

"I don't want to hear this."

Her attempt at walking away was blocked by Arthur when he unexpectedly grabbed her arm and pulled her towards him, causing her to crash into his chest. She struggled with him but her efforts proved fruitless when he easily tightened his grip around her. In a last ditch effort she kicked his shins, and a wave of satisfaction washed over her when he yelped in response. Unfortunately the feeling only lasted a minute as Arthur gained the upper-hand on her once again. Within seconds she found herself lying on the floor, pinned underneath him, her arms trapped over her head.

"Let me go!" she yelled furiously.

"I will. Once you calm down," he said in an exasperatingly even tone.

"Fuck you!"

He inched his face closer to hers. His eyes, brimming with deep intensity, bore into hers, challenging her to fight the memories of all those times they had been in a similarly intimate position. She willed herself to look away but found it impossible to avert his gaze.

Without warning he grazed her forehead with his lips, her breath hitched in her throat. Her body stiffened at the thought of him leaning in for a kiss, and she hated that it wasn't wariness but anticipation that surged through her. Instead of kissing her, however, he rested his head against the curve of her shoulder, sinking his weight fully into her.

Ariadne didn't know how long they remained in that position, quiet and still, with only the sound of her heart pounding evident to her ears. It was a long while before she even noticed he had released his grip on her wrists. Or that her arms had somehow managed to wrap themselves around his back.

"Do you know what it's like knowing you've fucked up the only thing that's ever brought you any happiness?"

She wasn't sure if he really expected her to answer, but she realized the longer she stayed in this position the closer she was to losing her resolve. Removing her arms from his body, she willed herself to be strong. "Please let me go." Her voice cracked, heavy with tears.

"Don't you think I've tried to?" he demanded, surprising her with his sudden emotional outburst. "I told myself you deserve better than me, you deserve happiness – especially after how I hurt you. But then you just... it's like you gave up on everything, and I can't stand that I did that to you."

"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm fine. I don't need you! I don't want you! I'm perfectly fine without you."

Even though she was the one lashing out, she felt the anguish of her words as severely as he did. The pain in his face mirrored her own, breaking her heart, but she reminded herself this was necessary.

"I don't believe you," he finally said.

"It's the truth."

"Then tell me you don't love me."

"I don't love you," she expelled furiously.

A self-deprecating smile formed across his lips. "Try it again without the tears."

She realized she needed another tactic to be rid of him. "We had a fling, Arthur," she said with a deliberately casual tone, wiping the tears that had streaked down her face. "That's all it was. You were just another guy. You know my history. You know how I am. I was bored, you were there, and when you ended things, I moved on. Simple as that."

"But you didn't move on, did you? You ran. You ran from your grandparents who love you, you ran from your life because you didn't want to risk getting hurt again, you ran from everything that mattered to you. Because you loved me and I let you down."

The resolve in her suddenly melted, and she found herself trembling inside, desperate and helpless. "What do you want from me, Arthur? Why are you here?"

"I love you," he whispered.

Arthur had always been the stronger one between the two of them, but now he sounded incredibly fragile, like he was completely ready to fall apart in front of her.

"Give me another chance, Ariadne."

She wanted to. She wanted to more than anything in the world. Arthur was the first person in her life who had made her feel deserving of love, he had truly believed in her, and given her a glimmer of happiness. However, she also remembered the excruciating pain when he hurt her, how broken she was as a result of it, and she never wanted to go through that again. She used to think coping with a father who didn't love her was hard enough, but falling in love with Arthur who had filled her with hope only to have him snatch it away because he ultimately shared her father's opinion of her was worse. Much worse. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. _Please_."

He trembled against her, his eyes wet with unshed tears. And she wanted to stop his pain, to hold him and cradle him, but she didn't. "How do I know you're not going to fall for what Dom says about me again?" she demanded. "And don't tell me it's because you love me because you claimed the same thing last time but when push came to shove you believed _him_ over me."

"I haven't spoken to Cobb since you left me."

Arthur's words stunned her. She knew how much he valued his relationship with her father, how much love and respect he felt towards the man who had helped him overcome a tragic childhood and become a better person. She remembered all the times Arthur had staunchly defended Dom to her, had even apologized for her father when Dom refused to... and now Arthur was saying he had no contact with the man who was his father figure and best friend. "Why?"

Arthur shot her an incredulous look. "Why not? I let him talk me into doing something that hurt you. He fed my insecurities and I was stupid enough to fall for it... and it cost me the girl I love. I couldn't be around him after that."

Even now the thought of her father filled her with anger and bitterness followed by despair. "He loved you more than he ever did me."

"I know."

It was the first time that she could remember Arthur wasn't trying to justify or excuse Dom's actions.

"I realise it's going to be a long time before you can trust me not to hurt you; I'm willing to wait as long as it takes."

"It's not that simple."

"I'm not expecting it to be. I know it's going to be hard, and difficult, but I'll do whatever it takes. I need you in my life, Ariadne. I love you."

"I'm not the same girl you knew, Arthur," she confessed. "I've changed... and I just... I honestly don't know if I have it in me to trust you – or anyone – again."

"You're never going to know unless you give me a chance."

"You don't get it. It's not just about trust... I honestly don't think I'm capable of love anymore. It hurts too much and... it's much easier to live my life like this."

"Like what? Alone, closed-off? Like Cobb?"

His pointed tone stung. She wanted to throw a clever reply back in his face except there was nothing she could say.

"Do you want to end up like your father, Ariadne?"

"You know I don't but that also doesn't mean I have to be with you again. You hurt me, Arthur... and I don't know if I can get past that."

"You can," he said with such fierce determination it almost made her smile. "You love me, and I love you. We can work through everything else."

"How do you know?"

His mouth closed over hers, and he kissed her with a ferocity she felt to the very tips of her toes. When he finally pulled away his hands were laced through her hair and her fingers were digging into the back of his neck and they were both panting for air. "I just do," he whispered.

Her fear and insecurities were still present but along with them was also a ray of hope. And for the moment, it was enough to silence the doubts. 


End file.
